It’s a cow wearing a fez. Cows wearing fezzes are cool.


this makes me want to sing the moo cow song

moo moo moo cow, moo cow, moo
moo moo moo cow, moo cow, moo
moo moo moo cow, moo cow, moo
moo moo moo cow, moo cow, MOOOOOOOOO!!!

Yup. That’s what I got out my four years at UConn… the moo cow song.

If you’re ever REALLY unlucky, you’ll get to hear me sing it. (It’s not that I can’t sing… well, I can’t, but that’s not the point of the moo cow song.)


I’ve been such a lump on the couch all day.

Not that that’s anything new during my forced and unpaid staycation, but it’s starting to wear on me.

Like I want to go do stuff… I’m just not physically capable of it. (Hello, darkness, my old friend…)

Shit, I don’t even have the energy to engage in basic human needs like eating. And I am FUCKING starving.

But that means getting off the couch, walking twenty feet into the kitchen, opening the fridge… and shit, I’m already feeling overwhelmed. Better to stay on the couch.



I’ve become addicted to checking my FFN email address… and I’ve gotten one review: Wow! That’s such a lovely story! Thx!

Amazingly, that makes me feel well enough to sit up and grab the last, warm, sip of the vanilla coke that’s been sitting on the table since 9AM.


Any one who wants to argue that this shit is all in my head (which, yes, to some degree it is), needs to feel like this. This is decidedly not in my head - it’s in every joint of my body. Every cell of my skin… Remember when I said my hair hurts? IT STILL DOES. WORSE THAN THE OTHER DAY.

I don’t know how any one can survive this shit without meds…

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